


How Long Had it Been?

by TwentyPicarats



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Confessions, First Time, M/M, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:16:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7119130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwentyPicarats/pseuds/TwentyPicarats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For years Randall sheltered feelings for his best friend, and a seemingly normal night alone lead to more than just his feelings being revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Long Had it Been?

      How long had they been doing this now? These sleepovers would come about twice a week... every Tuesday and Friday, whether in or out of school. The redhaired boy mulled it over... it must've been about a year now. At first it was standard, two very timid nerdy friends sleeping on floors on near opposite sides of the room... but as their friendship grew stronger, it turned into side by side sleeping bags, and eventually platonic cuddling on the bed.

      But how long had it been now? How long since that feeling in the pit of his stomach grown from a low rumble to a raging scream? That feeling that things shouldn't be this like this, that he's been using his friend without him even knowing it. Despite their years of friendship, he had never told his friend about his homosexuality, or his crush on the fluffy-haired brunette. At first he just figured it was just because it wasn't relevant to their friendship. But now he's realising...

      How long had he been afraid of this? He's afraid, afraid of losing Hershel if he ever told him exactly how he felt. Nervous that if he said those words, those completely natural words, that it would alter their friendship... and the sleepovers and fencing matches would stop. He was terrified, what if Hershel was one of them? They didn't live in the best time, their village was rather old fashioned, and homosexuality was definitely still something to be ashamed of, something to keep hidden from everyone. Even your best friend.

      How long could he keep it up? He had done it successfully for nearly a year now, but he was beginning to break. Seeing Hershel barely awake, seeing him hardly keeping consciousness to try and hold a conversation with a Randall clearly lost in thought. Hershel tried to initiate conversation after conversation, ask question after question, to be met with a blank stare and a very delayed 'Oh! Sorry Hershel, can you repeat that?' before losing himself to his spiteful mind again. There was only one more question

      How long had Hershel been looking at him like this? This look of mild annoyance and irritation, mixed so delicately on his olive-toned face. Randall tried his best not to overthink it, lest he blush and give away everything he worked so hard to hide. But why exactly was Hershel looking at him this way? He didn't know any longer, and he couldn't keep asking Hershel 'what' or 'pardon' again and again, it was rude. About as rude as ignoring him in the first place when you're laying there with your arms wrapped around one another.

            Wait...

      How long had he been saying Randall's name? He snapped back to it, and looked down at Hershel with his full attention. He'd only taken in his expression, and not what he was doing with it. Was he angry? Was he neglected? Randall hardly knew anymore. But at long last, he was giving Hershel the attention he deserved;

"Ahh, Hershel? I'm sorry, I became lost in thought."

"I've noticed. This has been every time we see one another. Are you quite alright?"

            His face must've given it away. Randall nods his head, and gets an aggravated pout in response;

"You're lying to me Randall. There's something wrong."

      Within a moment, Randall's expression had changed, from nervous and detached, to shameful and embarrassed. The very last thing he wanted was to tell Hershel this friendship-ruining secret... Hershel was the only person he really trusted. He looks away, tempted to pull his hands away from the irritated boy.

"I can't tell you. The last thing I want is to ruin my friendship with you Hersh."

"Randall you've dragged me across Stansbury for bent bottle caps and shards of broken bottles. I'm quite sure you're stuck with me."

"You don't understand-- I can't just... I can't just come out and say it, not after how long I've hidden it!"

"Hidden what?"

      Before he had even regained proper control of his mind, he had swung his head back to Hershel and practically smashed their lips together. He held onto Hershel tight, his lip quivering into the kiss. There was a distinct feeling... quick breath against his upper lip. Hershel was practically hyperventilating. Once Randall realized this, he pulled away, took back his arms, and sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

"That, Hershel. I've hidden that."

      How long had this stayed? This deafening silence, that quiet that would normally be so comforting, but now felt so loud. Like the words they weren't speaking were swirling around the room, loudly berating him for his idiotic choices. How could he let this happen? This crush, that kiss, the silence... anything?

      But had it been silence at all? His entire head was numb, nothing felt real anymore. Did he even do it at all? There was a faint buzzing noise that suddenly took over, and he lifted his head a bit to see Hershel right in his face, with his hands on Randall's shoulders

"Randall!"

"I'm sorry Hersh... yeah, I'll leave... sorry..."

"That's not what I was asking."

      His face was stern, and his fingers tensed slightly against Randall's shoulder. What had he even asked? Randall didn't know. Everything felt blank, everything felt fake, like this was all just a bad dream... a nightmare. Something he'd wake up from, Hershel would be in his arms, and none the wiser to his feelings.

"What were you asking...?"

"How long have you been hiding this?"

"About a year now."

      Hershel sighed, and sat on the bed beside him again, glancing down at his knees.

"I don't know exactly how that feels, I'm sorry... it hasn't been that long..."

"What hasn't?"

      There were a million more questions running through his head, when Hershel kissed his cheek so delicately and innocently. As sweetly and softly as Randall had expected a man like Hershel would kiss. Randall could hardly hold it back, that was reciprocation, and before he knew it, he had pinned Hershel to the bed, covering his face in tender kisses with the other blushing and flustering beneath him.

      Hershel tried his best to direct Randall, and soon enough there were ginger kisses shared between them. Hershel's arms moved to pull Randall just a little closer, and Randall was brushing the hand he wasn't using to hold himself up to brush softly over Hershel's cheek.

      Nothing has made him happier in a long time, since his last big discovery as an archaeologist, which was merely a vintage coin. He smiled fondly down at Hershel, and stroked along his cheek with his thumb, before leaning down just a bit to kiss his jawline. Hershel trembled a bit, and pushed Randall back a little to ask;

"What are you doing...?"

"Ah-- sorry Hersh... I got a little carried away."

"No no, but, what were you doing...?"

      After a moment of hesitation, Hershel pulled him close and returned the gesture timidly. Randall gasped, shivered, and pressed a hand over his mouth to suppress any other noises that wanted to escape. He had to do the same to Hershel, holding him back just enough to stop the assault.

"Hersh-- Hersh stop-- oh man--"

"What's wrong, Randall? Are you alright?"

"Yeah that... that's just really, really forward of you. I don't think you..."

"I know."

      Surprise took his face, and he couldn't help staring at Hershel. Did he just acknowledge he knew exactly what he was doing? What he was implying?

      How long had things been this way? How long had they been waiting for this moment? Was this really going to happen?

"Do you mean..."

"Yes, Randall."

      Mulling this over for a second, Randall moved back to kiss along Hershel's neck. They would be alone a while longer... perhaps they could get away with this. Randall's hand slipped down, tugging Hershel's shirt up enough to get underneath it. His curious hand roamed around his stomach, his chest, anywhere it could reach, and he was taking notes. Hershel had devilishly soft skin, and his body quivered to each touch Randall gave him.

      That was enough to keep Randall going. He looked a little nervous, sure, he's thought of the situation time and time again, but actually acting on it? He looked at Hershel nervously, and the brunette smiled up at him softly

"Randall, isn't it normally you that tells me 'no risk, no glory'?"

      Randall gives him a soft nod, and undoes Hershel's pants. A shaky hand slips under the waistband of his boxers, and flinches when it comes in contact with his semi-hard member. He had never even seen one that wasn't his own before, so suddenly coming in contact with one was strange. He heard a small moan escape Hershel, though, and after a slight hesitation, Randall's hand has grabbed it softly, and starts pumping up and down along the length.

      He felt two hands grip at his arms, and a head rest on his shoulder. If Hershel enjoyed it, he couldn't be doing too badly now. It was a really weird angle, and his hand wasn't moving all that gracefully, but it was definitely getting the job done. Randall could feel his ascot warming with each breath Hershel took. He couldn't help but shudder, and tried to move a little faster for the brunette.

      That's when he heard the first moan from Hershel, shaky and small. Randall couldn't help the smile across his face, picking up his pace a little more, and shifting slightly to try and get a better angle. He's glad he can bring some sort of pleasure to his best friend, but hearing his moaning, and not being able to get any relief himself...?

"Randall... mm... Randall..."

      When did Hershel's hand move to Randall's thigh? He wasn't sure, but he knew it was unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Randall took in a shaky breath, and felt the heat of Hershel's touch send chills up his spine. He gasped, and curled against Hershel. Was this awkward? Was it amazing? He didn't know, but he knows it feels really, really good.

"I... ahh... I'm not one for... mm... for self-pleasure... so I don't exactly know what I'm... nn... what I'm doing..."

"You're doing fine, Hersh..."

      It was true, Hershel's hand was stumbling quite a bit, stopping and starting up, but Randall didn't care. This felt great either way, even if Hershel didn't know what he was doing. And if Randall played his cards right, Hershel could get better with more time with Randall. There was one problem with all of this though.

      Randall was already feeling himself on the verge of cumming. This was too soon, this was going to be really embarrassing. He was going to cum within a few minutes, and put his reputation he had built up with Hershel to shame. But this felt amazing, so amazing. Even as sloppy as it was, it just made everything feel real, like it really was handjobs exchanged between two virgins. But his end was coming, quick... he was going to ruin everything.

      If not for Hershel crying out suddenly, tensing and trembling against Randall and his hand being splashed with the teenager's cum. He didn't last long, after hearing a noise like that, and within a few more movements of Hershel's hand, Randall moaned Hershel's name shakily, and reached his own end. He had really just cum to Hershel's actions, to his hand. And when Hershel curiously pulled his hand back, there it was.

"Hersh did we really just--"

      Hershel shushed him quickly with a kiss, and entwined the fingers on their still clean hands. This felt like magic, like the grand finale in a fireworks show. His lip quivered, and he returned it once he actually thought to. As quickly as it started, it finished. Randall was smiling at Hershel, who looked nothing short of concerned. It hadn't even dawned on him;

      How long had he been crying? He smiled through it, and wiped at his eyes. He started laughing a bit, and grabbed two tissues, one to clean his hand, and the other to wipe under his eyes. Hershel followed suit with his own, and the moment the tissue was tossed into the waste bin, Randall was hugging him tight.

"I'm really happy Hersh..! I waited a really long time, I was scared of what you'd think."

      Hershel returned it, and laid them both down again to nestle back under the blankets. Honestly, even if it didn't seem like that much work, he was exhausted. He nestled under Randall's chin, being wary to make sure Randall didn't get a face full of afro. Randall grinned, nuzzling into it and shutting his eyes.

"Come now Randall, you know..."

"Yeah Hersh, no risk, no glory."

      His eyes finally shut, and he relaxed, cuddled up to his now outed crush. His breathing soon slowed, and he finally drifted off after a satisfying evening.


End file.
